


Half God, Half Devil

by JordanLynn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dutch, F/M, Mentions of Rape, Reader is a bad ass, Romanian, Training, Violence, and by sick i mean sick, enjoy this sick piece., just read it, mentions of abuse, not cool sick, thank you, xhosa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 20:18:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13348749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JordanLynn/pseuds/JordanLynn
Summary: "I can take away your breath or I can bring you back to life."





	Half God, Half Devil

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ
> 
> Language-Xhosa  
> "Valiwa"- Stop  
> "Uhlobo"-Darling  
> "Andizange ndiyazi ukuba ndineenkampani"- I did not know i had company  
> "Amanye amadoda amnandi kakhulu" -Some very nice men.   
> "Intoni?" - What?  
> "Ngaba ndimele ndizithethe ngolwimi lwami?" - Should I speak in my own language?  
> "Unehoya elilodwa. Nxiba isuti." You have one hour. Suit up.  
> "Siza kuthetha kamva." -We will talk later.  
> "Busika." -Winter  
> "Ndambona."-I saw him.  
> Romanian:  
> "Cum te numești?" - Whats your name?  
> "Cat de mult?" - How many?  
> Dutch:  
> "Je zult het uit moeten zoeken." - You'll have to find out.

"He't not ready." Steve says, for the seventh time, as he paces the large window. "He just received his new arm just the other day, you can not possibly think he is ready for a mission."

  
Bucky has only been out of cryo for a month, mind freshly free of the words, new arm fully functional. When he had came out, Steve was biting his nails down to the cuticle, watching as his best friend thawed.

  
The first time they said the words to Bucky, he had cried. The words no longer took affect in his mind. The bug was gone, and no way of crawling back in.

  
He's been now spending his days in the gym, working his new arm, waking up his frozen muscles, and riding himself of his demons. He still has nightmares that keep him awake; some so vivid, when he wakes up, he can still feel the flesh of the persons neck on his human fingertips. Hes still a bit dent, everyone knows this.

  
Tony had mentioned the idea of putting Bucky back in the field, to see if that would help him. To put him in something he would be familiar with, to help loosen him up again. And that is how they ended up here in King T'Challa's office with Steve nearly having a panic attack.

  
King T'Challa and Tony look at each other, then back to Steve, "You're right." Tony states, right hand rubbing his stubbly chin. His lips pursed, deep in thought.

  
"Thank you." Steve sighs, clapping his hands together.

  
"He needs training." T'Challa speaks, turning on his heel and begging to walk out of the room. He grabs his jacket as he passes his desk, "Come with me."

  
Tony turns to Steve, looking just as confused as him. They turn and follow T'Challa out of the room, down the hall, the basement of the building, and to a secured metal door.

  
T'Challa turns to the men, hand other the scanner to unlock the door, "She is once of our most strongest warriors," his accent hushed, "do not be intimated by her. She doesn't like that. But then again, " he smiles as the door clicks open, "she doesn't like much in general."

  
The scene they see when they walk in had Tony smirking, and Steve blushing from ears to his toes.

  
You're naked. Sweat dripping down the crevices of your spine, muscles flexing with each pull up. The music blasting from the speakers is heavy, a woman screaming about evil. Your hair is pulled into a tight high ponytail, sweat cuffs around your wrist, and a tight leather belt around your high waist.

  
"Found her in Wakanda, killing men." T'Challa smiles from behind them.

  
"And you took her in?" Rogers exclaims, shifting his eyes to the Panther.

  
"I like her already." Tony rubs his hands together, eyes drinking in your wet form.

  
"Shut up, Tony."

  
"Valiwe!" T'Challa voice booms around into the room, the music cutting off.

  
You freeze mid pull up, still as a rock. You weren't expecting company.

  
"She was killing pedophiles. Abusive men. Men like he father." The King says, walking farther into the room. You drop to the floor, landing on your feet and hands, squatting down to hide your breast. You huff out a sigh, staring at the floor. He could have warned you. "Uhlobo."

  
"Andizange ndiyazi ukuba ndineenkampani." You hiss at him over your shoulder, slowing standing and facing the men. "Oh." You tilt your head at the three men, squinting at them. "Amanye amadoda amnandi kakhulu." You purr.

  
Steve raises an fine brow at you, "Do you speak english?"

  
You continue to stare at them, lips slowly growing into a wide smirk.

  
"I like the way she speaks, Rogers. Its hot."

  
"Shut up, Tony."

  
"Uhlobo, these men are my friends." King speaks directly, slowly stepping closer to you. "I've come to ask a favor of you."

  
You lift your head higher, looking up at the man while looking down at him. "Intoni?" You reach over to a nearby chair, pulling on a silk black robe to at least give yourself some modestly. You look over T'Challa's shoulder at the other two men before looking back at him, "Ngaba ndimele ndizithethe ngolwimi lwami?" You question.

  
"It would be best if you did, Darling." The Panther lightly places his hand on your silk shoulder.

  
"What would you like me to do? Or who to kill?" You stare into his eyes, placing a hand over his.

  
"I need you to train someone. Someone who was brain washed and tortured." He travels his hand down your arm, wrapping his fingers around your scared forearm, "He needs help. And I know there is no one better than you."

  
You nod your head, "Yes, my King. "

  
Steve looked down at Tony, arms crossed over his chest, "She speaks English."

  
" ' My King' ." Tony whispers back, "Who is she?"

  
You yell out your name, leaning around T'Challa to look a them, "Who are you?"

  
The hand on your arm releases you, "These men are Tony Stark, the man who help create your suit. The other is Captain Steve Rogers, the best man of the man you will be training." T'Challa states matter of fact from your side.

  
You move around him to stand in front of them and stare at them, eyes racking over them. Tony, the short one, has a slight permanent grin on his mouth and a bit of arrogance to his face. Next, it the worlds most justice filled man. Steve, a sight for sore eyes, looked down at you as you study him. His face is kind, innocent, but holds authority to the sharp look in his eyes. You raise your hand and hold it out to him, "Pleasure to meet you, Captain Rogers."

  
Steve looks at T'Challa before grasping your hand softly, only to yell loudly as you throw him to the ground and pull a small knife out of your leather belt, pressing it to his throat. "What the fu-"

  
"I surely hope your friend has better reflexes than you. That was pathetic." You stand up, stepping over his mass and walking to the shower on the far side of the room.

  
"How the fuck did she do that?" Tony stands bewildered, reaching to pull Steve off the floor.

  
"Like I said, strongest warrior we have. Come, she'll meet up with us in an hour." T'Challa turn his head to yell over his shoulder, " Unehoya elilodwa. Nxiba isuti!"

 

 

  
As you shower, you stare at your torn body. Scare tissue dance over your stomach, arms, chest, legs, and your spine. The longest one twist over your shoulder, starting in the center of your chest and ending on your tailbone. A whip. The whip had wrapped itself over your right shoulder, tearing the skin as it smacked against you. Its still tender to touch.

  
The day the King had brought you in was the best and worst day of your life. Growing up, you only had your mom, a sweet woman who had too many faults and flaws, but you loved her so much, you could never see them. But one flaw she had, was your Father. An abusive man who took innocents from children...your sister and yourself and many other children you couldn't keep up with. He was evil. He was toxic. Was.

  
T'Challa had found you impaling your Father on a pole, straight through chest and out his mouth. You were laughing and crying and screaming. The warehouse the found you in was fulled with dead men and woman, pedophiles and abusive parents. He did fight or stop you as you repeatedly stabbed the man over and over and over until you arm began to hurt, only to switch hands. You cried as slit his already dead bodies throat, and laughed as you fell to your knees in front the corps, and screamed as blood ran over your skin.

  
You use to think that what you had in you was wrong, was insane, and you didn't understand how it came to you. The strength you had was inhuman, the brain you had with too full, you speed you had was impossible. You had fallen asleep one night as a younger self, in the house your Father no longer lived in, and woke with so much..power. You remember waking your mom up, crying because you could remember your Father hurting you at such a young age, and hurting your sister at an even younger age.

  
She had thought you were insane, ill, until you proved her wrong. You took her to the place he had done it, to you and your sister. It was in the old house they lived in for a few years after you were born, for your sister. And for you, you took her home to your room and pointed to the now new bed. You told her "Daddy got me a new bed because I got blood on it."

  
You told her everything.

  
And to this day, you still scream in your sleep, you still stare into nothing, thinking of other ways you could have ruined his body.

  
As you slip on your suit, one much similar to the Panther suit, you think of how you will train this man. You wonder if he was a bad man. You wonder if he will kill you. You wonder if you will kill him. A smile form on your stone face. You haven't killed someone in years, haven't had that sweet red on your hands in so long. The blood lust is building as you walk to the field. This man doesn't know what he is in for.

  
"You're late," is the first thing the King says to you as you walk on the grass, your boots killing little bug families. "I said one hour, not two."

  
You stop in front of him and bow your head, "I was lost in my head." You say to your boots. Once the words leave your mouth, you realize your mistake. T'Challa doesn't like if you don't tell him the thoughts you are having. Especially ones about killing the man you're about to train.

  
"Siza kuthetha emva koqeqesho," he breaths into your hair, then leans back, places a hand on your should and pushes you forward, "Uhlobo, this is Bucky, Captains friend."

  
You slowly move your eyes up the mans legs, clad in black training pants, boot covered feet, and a black tee, that clings to his body very nicely. When your eyes land on his face, you stop...

  
"Busika.." you pant out. You know this man. You know him. You tilt your head at him and stare at his face. The scruff is thicker, hair a bit longer, his arm is actully and arm now, not just a stub of wasted metal. Your attention turns back to T'Challa, "Ndambona." Eyes keep shifting from Bucky to T'Challa, for the first time, you feel. You feel.

  
"What is she saying?" Steve demands from Buckys side, stepping forward.

  
T'Challa shifts his eyes to Steve, and speaks in a soft tone, "Shes seen him before." He turns back to you, "Where?"

  
You place your hands on your hips, cripping your swords, "Romaina."

  
Buckys face morphs into panic, "That wasn't me." He readies himself, shifting his feet into fighting stance, "It wasnt me." He repeats.   
S

teve and T'Challa move away slowly, watching intensely. You pull the swords out, shivering at the weight of the metal in your hands. Oh, its been so long.

  
"Winter Solider. Hydras most deadly machine, a man way out of his time." You taunt, swinging the swords around your hands, "When you went crazy in Bucharest, you fought my King. I was one of the people you punched in the face." You stand still, sizing him up, "You chipped my tooth."

  
And you swong.

  
Bucky slid back, grabbing your arm with his metal, and pulling you to him as his other hand grabs your other arm, holding your arms apart, "I said it wasn't me. If you were so smart, you would know that my brain had been fucked with." He hisses in your face, breath fanning over you.

  
You drop the swords, keeping your eyes locked. You slowly shift your weight, "My brain has been fucked with too, would you like to hear a story?" In a swift movement, you grab onto his elbows, bend your knees, and flip him over your back, twisting his arm behind his back. You press your knee into the side of face, pressing him into the dirt, "My Father was a rapist, abusive man." You twist his real arm farther, Bucky letting out a loud yell, "I killed him and many other men like him. I impaled him on a pole," You dodge his metal arm, gripping it in your other hand, pinning it above his head. You lean down to whisper in Buckys ear softly, "Even after he took his last breath, I continued to tear him apart. I killed his body, but I wanted to kill his soul. I wanted him to suffer like the way we had to suffer."

  
You jump off Bucky, letting him up. You watch has he rises to his feet. When he stands upright, you kick him in the stomach, flying him back a few feet.

  
Bucky groans into the grass before standing back up with his back to you. Its been so long since hes fought, hes body cant remember how to defend itself. He listen as your boots walk closer, waiting for the right moment to...

  
His metal arm shoots out, grabbing you around the neck. His head turns and looks you dead in the eyes. "You've killed because you wanted to, I did not want to kill all the innocent people." You gasp out, clawing at the vibranium, only he continues, "I'm sorry for what your Father did, and for what all those men did." He throws you to the ground, still holding your throat, "And I'm sorry for punching you in that pretty face."

  
That gets him a knee to the balls and a palm to the nose. His head snaps back, letting go if you throat as he falls back. He feels the blood start rushing out of his nostrils. You wrap your legs around his middle before he hits the ground, pulling him back on top of you, but this time you wrap both hands around his neck. You shift one leg up to pin his metal arm to his side, locking your ankles together.

  
"You think I'm pretty?" You whisper against his nose, letting the blood drip onto your lip, "I'm sorry for hitting you in your pretty face." You lick the blood of your bottom lip, the bitter taste causing you to tighten your legs around him. "I'm here to train you, Bucky." His real hand comes and grips your neck, squeezing just as tight at you. You smile manically at him. "Yes." You breath before you release him.

  
He falls over, coughing, watching you as you stand un-bothered. He pulls his brows together, confused. "How?" He wheezes.

  
"Don't speak, you'll tear your vocal cords." You state. You bow your head to T'Challa when you approach him, then lift to say, "Ill train him. But he needs a suit. If you want me to do this right, he needs to be protected." You rip your swords out of the grass, flicking the dirt off.

  
Steve nods slowly, "Deal."

  
Bucky slowly stands, sighing deeply to catch his breath, "Cum te numești?"

  
Your head whips around, eyes lighting up, "Cat de mult?"

  
The smile that spread across his face is...beautiful. "How many do you know?"

  
You smile right back at him, "Je zult het uit moeten zoeken." With that, you walk off back into the temple.

  
Steve looks at Bucky, brows raised high, "What was that?" He rubs his fingers to his temples.

  
Bucky shrugs slightly, "I asked for her name, she asked how many languages do I know. Then she said I'll have to find out."

  
T'Challa grins, "In Romanian first, and then Dutch."

  
"I need to learn some languages." Steve mumbles as they make their way back into the temple. Bucky claps him on the back, laughing softly.

  
You watch from the window, a small smile there on your lips. Bucky could be the man to make you feel again. Feel something other than anger and hatetrid.

  
As you turn on your heel and walk back to your room, you listen to the sound of your boots clicking on the tile floors. Listen to your breathing slow, and listen to your heart beat slowly. You sway your head side to side, humming and singing softly.

  
Bucky doesn't know what hes in for. You're going to ruin him. Going to make him wish he never agreed to this.

  
You laugh loudly as you reach your room, turning on the stereo, and throwing your swords at the wall. You grab your little knives from your thighs and begin the whip them across the room, into your punching bag.

 

 

 

  
_I can say a prier for you or I can cast a spell._

 

_I can push you to the darkness just to pull you through the light._

 

_I can take your breath away or I can bring you back to life._

 

 

_Half God._

 

 

 

_Half Devil._


End file.
